


we don't need no trouble

by andibeth82



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Gen, Road Trips, Superhero dad bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 16:36:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6761725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andibeth82/pseuds/andibeth82
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What’s funny about this whole goddamn secret mission -- the one where he’s apparently been sent to bring in a rogue superhero for a reason no one’s even bothered to tell him -- is that Scott Lang looks…well…ordinary. Clint supposes he can’t talk, considering he knows no one would pick him out of a civilian line-up when it came to figuring out who was an Avenger.</p><p>“Hi. Uh. Hi.” Clint clears his throat, wishing he had at least one sip of caffeine before he was pushed out the goddamn door for this. “My name is Clint Barton. I need you to come with me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	we don't need no trouble

**Author's Note:**

> The short version is that this was written well before CA:CW hit theatres, as I based the story off the clips of Clint going to recruit Scott and bringing him to Team Cap, while having dadbro bonding time. I held onto it until after the release for reasons, and, as such, it is obviously now a re-written scene if you have seen the film. In that sense, there are no spoilers, but consider this an FYI anyway. (Also, since this was taken from clips released a few months ago, there's obviously gratuitous liberties taken with locations and plot as it wasn't clear at the time that Clint and Scott were meeting at the airport, having apparently traveled from the US to Germany, or that Wanda had traveled with them.)
> 
> Thanks to gecko for beta. <3

_Potholes_. Clint winces as the van bumps along the rocky road, jostling the latest bruises along his spine and back, the ones incurred from falling down the stairs after trying too hard to catch Nate’s bouncing duck toy. It had to be _potholes_.

It was bad enough he had been called away from Laura and the kids unnecessarily due to what Steve had only told him was “a national security issue that affects the team,” and it was even worse he had woken up a day after getting to New York to the sound of his friend pounding on the door of his room, before barging in and announcing, “We’ve got a mission for you. We need you to take care of it.”

“Are you serious? _Now_?” Clint had whined from between the covers, sticking his head underneath his pillow. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had wondered if Steve had ever instituted a “no whining” rule, mostly for Tony’s sake.

“ _Now_ ,” Steve had responded curtly, turning on his heel and walking away. Clint had groaned more to himself, kicked off the covers grumpily, and then texted both Laura and Natasha.

**NAT R.**

**_Why the hell is Cap asking you to go on an assignment?_ **

 

Clint had sighed, working his fingers across the keys.

****

**_Your guess is as good as mine._ **

**NAT R.**

**_Maybe he’s trying to get you to recruit more strays._ **

 

**_Har, har, Nat. Very funny. Got any more dad jokes in there?_ **

 

He had dragged himself out of bed, combed his hair down enough so that no one could accuse him of _actually_ rolling out of bed, and dressed before heading down to the kitchen to meet Cap’s stoic face.

“Van’s waiting.”

“Hang on.” Clint had done a double take. “Can’t I like, you know, grab a coffee or something? Even my _kids_ let me have coffee before they drag me out of the house.”

“You can have coffee when you get back,” Cap had told him, his voice harboring no sympathy whatsoever and also a warning tone of _this is non-negotiable_. “This is time sensitive.” Clint had received a folder and an already programmed GPS, had grumbled once more for good measure, and then skulked out the door.

Which is how Clint Barton, otherwise known as Hawkeye, eventually found himself standing in front of an apartment belonging to a one Mr. Scott Lang, otherwise known as Ant-Man.

And what’s funny about this whole goddamn secret mission -- the one where he’s apparently been sent to bring in a rogue superhero for a reason no one’s even bothered to tell him -- is that Scott Lang looks…well… _ordinary_. Clint supposes he can’t talk, considering he knows no one would pick him out of a civilian line-up when it came to figuring out who was an Avenger.

“Hi. Uh. Hi.” Clint clears his throat, wishing he had at least one sip of caffeine before he was pushed out the goddamn door for this. “My name is Clint Barton. I need you to come with me.”

Scott’s eyebrows shoot up. “Excuse me? Who the hell _are_ you?”

“Clint Barton. Hawkeye. You know…Avenger? Sharpshooter, marksman?”

Scott’s eyes widen at the mention of _Avenger_ but he still looks lost. Clint sighs.

“Battle of New York? Sokovia?”

Scott shrugs, and Clint groans. “Man, just trust me and come with me,” he says, rubbing a hand across his eyes. “I’ll explain on the way. I promise.”

Scott continues to look dubious but he sighs, running a hand through messy hair. “Gimme five,” he says before he closes the door. Clint shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other, wincing slightly at the banging sounds that he hears on the other side of the door mingled with a few obscenities. When the door opens again, Scott is fully dressed and looks a little more awake and alert.

“That makes two of us,” Clint mutters to himself as he starts to walk away. He doesn’t wait to see if Scott will follow.

“Hang on.” There’s the sound of a lock sliding into place and then hurried footsteps as they walk down the three flights of stairs. “Don’t I even get to know where I’m going?”

“Nope,” Clint says cagily, walking out of the building and unlocking the van. “Just get in. I’ll explain eventually.”

“This is unorthodox and completely insane,” Scott declares, climbing into the front seat. Clint gets in the driver’s seat and turns the ignition, starting down the road. It feels strange to be in a van that’s so empty and clean, and his eyes keep darting around at various intervals, looking for what he associates with this kind of roadtrip: Laura’s oversized travel mugs filled with cold coffee, Nate’s favorite stuffed animal that falls too many times out of the infant’s grip, Cooper’s small trucks that clatter to the floor along Lila’s Fisher Price dolls.

“We’re stopping for coffee,” Clint decides when they’ve just gotten back on the highway and Scott looks up in surprise.

“Why?”

“Because. I’m tired as fuck and I’m cranky and I’ve decided we can.” Clint knows he’s not exactly being overly hospitable at the moment but it’s worth it when Scott doesn’t argue as Clint pulls off the highway and directly into a Starbucks drive-thru.

“Still can’t believe they don’t make Avenger-specific credit cards,” Clint mutters under his breath as he hands over his American Express, making a mental note to tell Laura that it’s not _his_ fault he was dragged out of bed and sent on some sort of recon mission with no warning. He hands over Scott’s order -- a venti iced Americano -- and puts his own (a venti _hot_ Americano with milk) in the cup holder, taking a moment to savor the scent and taste of caffeine before pulling back into traffic.

 _Fuck Natasha and her stray comment_ , he thinks bitterly, not wanting to admit that it’s probably true. He realizes suddenly that Scott, who he had assumed was asleep next to him thanks to overwhelming silence, is actually awake and sipping on his coffee, looking decently alert while humming a tune that sounds vaguely familiar.

“ _For the first time in forever_ ,” Clint says out loud without thinking, and Scott looks over in surprise.

“What?”

“That song, the one you were humming?” Clint tightens his grip on the wheel. Scott suddenly realizes what Clint must be referring to and looks acutely embarrassed.

“Oh. You, uh, recognize it?”

Clint laughs shortly. “Yeah, unfortunately. One too many viewings of _Frozen_ with my kids.”

Scott’s entire demeanor changes at Clint’s words and he turns around in his seat as much as his belt will allow, clearly intrigued, sucking excitedly on his coffee.

“You’ve…got kids?”

“Yeah.” Clint smiles. “Three, actually.”

Scott lets out a low whistle. “Damn. Three? Good job, man, I mean, I only have one and she’s a handful -- I mean, I love her, but I don’t know if I could handle more than one of her, you know? She drives me crazy.”

Clint snorts. “I thought that after Cooper, I couldn’t handle anything else. Then Lila came along, which I guess is what happens when you drink too much at a party. Then Nathaniel…anyway, each one was more of a handful than the last but at least I became better at knowing how to handle fatherhood. When Cooper was born, I didn’t know what to do with myself. My wife still makes fun of me.”

“Lila.” Scott purses his lips. “One girl, then?”

“Unfortunately for my wife, fortunately for me,” Clint says. “She’s pissed she’s outnumbered.”

Scott smiles. “I’ve got a girl,” he offers, pulling a photo from his wallet. “Cassie. She’s nine.”

Clint glances over, enough so that he can see the photo of a smiling young girl with long brown hair that looks similar to Lila’s.

“She’s cute,” Clint remarks because, hell, he’s seen enough small children to know. When they stop at a red light, he pulls his phone from his pocket and flips to the picture application, handing it over.

“Cooper, Lila and Nathaniel,” he says, unable to keep the boasting tone from his voice. Scott smiles.

“Oldest looks exactly like you,” he notes and Clint nods.

“He’s the smartest kid in class,” he says with just a hint of pride. “And Lila just won the spelling bee contest at her school last week.”

“Cassie just got the lead in her elementary school play,” says Scott, putting the phone in his lap. “And she’s the teacher’s favorite. Well, we try not to brag, but the report cards don’t lie.”

“Lila brought home a flawless report card last month, too,” Clint says loftily, navigating the van through traffic. “Cooper as well.”

“Cassie was talking at one. Full sentences.”

“Nate’s almost one, and we think he’s going to walk soon. He was crawling really early.”

Scott glances over at Clint and then adjusts himself in the seat.

“Why are you away from your family now, then? Avenger stuff?”

Clint hesitates. “Yeah. I, uh, kind of got called away. Just how it is.” He tries to keep the bitterness out of his voice, because he knows he _does_ love his job. “Where’s your kid? I didn’t see her when I picked you up.”

It’s Scott’s turn to hesitate, and he runs a hand through his hair. “We’re, uh, we’re Divorced. Maggie and I. My ex-wife, her mother, she has custody with the guy she married. But I make it a priority to see her. She’s the most important thing in my life. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else…she’s my kid, you know?”

“Yeah,” Clint says nodding slowly. “I get that. I always think I can be away and do all this cool fighting stuff, and then when I’m home, Lila shows me some new dance move or Cooper makes me play a video game and I just…I remember how much I like having a family. Or what I’ve missed by being away.”

“But you like it?” Scott’s voice is veering on excited, not to mention overly curious. “Being an Avenger?”

“It pays the bills,” Clint says with a shrug. “I mean, not that there aren’t things that are kind of shitty about the job. Flying robots, brainwashing…”

“Yeah. Have you ever had a guy in a Yellowjacket suit try to destroy you?” Scott interrupts dryly. “Not exactly high on my list of things that I’d like to experience in my lifetime. But my daughter got a pretty amazing pet out of the deal.”

“Ugh, don’t talk to me about pets,” groans Clint, unable to help himself. “Lila’s been asking for pony since she was three. You wanna know what her reasoning is? _Daddy, we live on a farm, we should have ponies!_ ” He raises his voice in an imitation of his five-year-old and this time, it’s Scott that laughs.

“Hey, mind pulling over at the next rest stop? I could use a bathroom break after that Americano.”

Clint realizes he could, too, especially when a quick glance at the GPS shows that they still have a good hour or so on their hands. He navigates the van off the road at the next huge blue sign that promises coffee, fast food AND bathrooms, and parks close to the door, double checking the lock once for good measure.

“Kids,” Scott says and Clint turns around at his words.

“Huh?”

“Kid syndrome,” Scott repeats, gesturing to Clint. “Making sure the car is locked, just in case, because you’ve got a lot of valuables in there? Not to mention luggage and bags and toys in the back on the floor, and probably their favorite bottle rolling under the seats.”

Clint forces out a laugh. “Yeah,” he admits. “Yeah, last time I drove one of these vans it was to visit Laura’s parents in Florida. Took the kids to Disney, which was about six times more challenging than fighting aliens in New York. I’m pretty sure we needed about a dozen rest stops in every state we traveled through.”

“I took Cassie on a roadtrip through some of California last year,” Scott shares as they walk towards the rest stop. “Just me and her, though the van wasn’t quite this large. But she lost her favorite toy halfway through at a diner, and I never heard the end of it.”

While Scott takes care of business, Clint busies himself by buying another small coffee and then buys a dozen Dunkin’ Donuts munchkins for both of them, feeling like he at least deserves to give the guy something nice to make up for his earlier attitude. Scott wasn’t so bad. Besides, he still has no idea why Steve wants him, and he’s hoping he hasn’t pulled someone _else_ out of retirement and away from their family for nothing.

“Aw, man. Munchkins!” Scott exclaims happily when he meets Clint back outside, seeing the brown paper bag. Clint can’t help but smile as he hands it over and they walk back to the car together, Scott digging into the treats.

“Cassie likes chocolate best. Yours?”

Clint takes a munchkin from the bag. “Lila’s a fan of chocolate also. But Cooper’s a fan of the glazed. Nate, well, right now his favorite food is anything that comes in a can. Or cheerios.”

“Cassie went through the cheerios phase. Let me tell you, we went through a _lot_ of cereal,” he says with a small sigh as Clint unlocks the car door. “Hey, uh. Look, is it alright…I mean, you did kind of pull me out of my apartment with no warning. Is it cool if I just take a nap or something for a bit?”

Clint smiles again, downing the rest of his coffee before chucking it into the garbage can near the car.

“Yeah, man. Why not? Get some rest. One of us should.”

Scott’s face is a mask of relief. “Cool, thanks. Oh, and don’t go playing _Frozen_ when I’m not looking,” he cautions as he climbs into the backseat, stretching out comfortably. “For all I know, you’re already taking me to my doom.”

Clint chuckles. “Trust me, man. You’re looking at another dad. The last thing we want to do is torture you more when it comes to _that_.”

Scott grins, closing his eyes, and Clint slams the door shut before getting back in the driver’s seat, pulling back onto the highway.

He’s _almost_ done humming the entire soundtrack to himself when they get back, pulling into the garage.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on [tumblr](http://isjustprogress.tumblr.com) for more fic and feels.


End file.
